It took Audrey some time to recover from the announcement so unexpectedly made by Miss Toat. In fact, she felt so faint that the detective made her drink a glass of water. When better she asked a question which had been in her mind all the time.  
"You don't accuse Mr. Shawe of--"
 
"No, no, no!" said Miss Toat, hastily. "How can you think of such a thing? Mr. Shawe is perfectly¹ innocent. He wrote the letter because he suspected another person."
 
"Who is the other person?"
 
Perry Toat hesitated. "I think it will be best for you to ask Mr. Shawe to give you an explanation," she said a trifle stiffly. "I can't say for certain whom he suspects. But it must be someone known to you, or he would not have worded his letter in the way he has done."
 
Audrey leant her elbow on the table, and her now aching head on her hand. "I don't see how you can make out that Mr. Shawe wrote the letter," she said.
 
For answer Perry Toat placed before her the letters which she had taken out of the tin box. These were from Ralph, giving various instructions to the detective. Beside these she placed the anonymous² epistle.
 
"You can see," said Miss Toat, quietly, "that although the handwriting of the anonymous letter is disguised, there is a great similarity to that of Mr. Shawe's. Here and here"--she pointed³ out several letters; and then, to clinch⁴ the matter, she said positively⁵: "The paper is some which Mr. Shawe's office-boy keeps to make notes on. I have noticed that. Also the postmark is London."
 
"But all this is not strong enough to prove that Mr. Shawe wrote the letter."
 
"I think it is, Miss Branwin. However, it will be easy for him to deny the authorship if you ask him. I must say," added Miss Toat, determined⁶ to be perfectly frank, "that the evidence is slight, and I go mostly by the similarity of the writing. Also I told Mr. Shawe something which Parizade told me, which seemed to alarm him. Ever since then he has tried to stop me looking into the matter. Therefore I judge that to enlist⁷ you on his side he wrote this," and Miss Toat laid her lean hand on the anonymous epistle.
 
"But why couldn't he speak plainly to me? I see no reason why he should trick me in this manner," argued Audrey, distressed⁸ to find that Ralph had behaved in so underhanded a way.
 
"I can't answer that question; and, in spite of my belief, I may be wrong in suspecting Mr. Shawe. However, it is easy to learn the truth. Take any letter which Mr. Shawe has written to you and place it before him, along with this anonymous one. Then see what he says, and report to me his reply."
 
Audrey agreed to do this, and went away, much puzzled. The mystery of the case was affecting her nerves; and, now that Ralph seemed to be on the side of the enemy, she did not know which way to turn for advice. Perry Toat's intentions were good, but she seemed to be more clever at theorising than in finding real evidence likely to be of service for the elucidation⁹ of the problem. So far, what discoveries she had made--and these were but trifling--had resulted in nothing. Poor Audrey went home lamenting¹⁰ inwardly that the truth would never become known.
 
However, there was only one thing to be done, and she did it. That is, she wrote a short note to Ralph asking him to call at the Camden Hill house. As Mrs. Mellop was now absent, and Sir Joseph would probably go out in the evening according to his usual custom, the coast would be clear for Ralph's visit. Besides, Audrey was weary of playing a secret game, and wished her lover to come forward boldly, and claim her even at the risk of Sir Joseph's displeasure. This would fall on her sooner or later, so it was just as well to get it over at once. She sent the letter by special messenger, and then went to lie down, as her head was aching. It was not to be wondered at, seeing what a shock she had sustained.
 
Sir Joseph came home to express his satisfaction that Mrs. Mellop was out of the house, and ascribed his daughter's weary looks when she met him to regret for the loss of her friend. Audrey hastened to undeceive him.
 
"I told you that I did not like Mrs. Mellop, papa, and I have not changed my opinion," she said very distinctly.
 
"Well, my dear, you were right for once," replied Branwin, more amiably¹¹ than usual. "She talked too much, and I began to feel that she was a nuisance. However, she has gone, and you needn't see her again." He paused, then abruptly¹² made his announcement. "I intend to take you abroad."
 
"I don't care to go, papa."
 
"It doesn't matter what you care, you will do as you are told. A change of scene will do you good, as you look pale enough. I wish you to stop with Madame Lemain. She is a charming woman, and her husband is a very good friend of mine. You shall stay in Paris until you agree to obey me and marry Lord Anvers. Not a word. I have made up my mind."
 
"And I have made up mine," cried the girl, greatly angered. "I refuse to marry Lord Anvers, and I have told him so."
 
"Oh, that doesn't matter," Branwin assured her, coolly. "Anvers intends to propose again."
 
"He will receive the same answer."
 
"I think not, Audrey. A few weeks in Paris may cause you to change your mind, since you will not be seeing that rascal¹³ Shawe every day, as I have reason to believe you are doing."
 
"I see Ralph whenever I can," Audrey confessed, candidly¹⁴ and defiantly¹⁵, "and if you do not consent to my marriage with him I shall run away."
 
"By all means, if you choose to risk the loss of your dowry," said Sir Joseph, grimly. "I hold the purse, remember, and if you disobey me not one shilling of my money will you get. I don't intend to talk of this matter any more to you. Either you do what I want or I shall disown you as a daughter. In Paris you may perhaps make up your mind," and without another glance at the pale-faced girl Branwin left the room.
 
But Audrey was still unconquered. Her father took the wrong tone with her when he hoped to bully¹⁶ her into compliance¹⁷. Had he spoken affectionately and been more amiable¹⁸ she might have overlooked his previous neglect, and have striven to please him. "But whatever he said or did," muttered the girl to herself, "I should never consent to marry Lord Anvers." So it seemed that Sir Joseph's design of sending her abroad for reflection was likely to prove useless.
 
The time Audrey had appointed for her lover to call was eight o'clock; but he did not make his appearance. Sir Joseph had not gone out, as the girl had expected him to, and was writing letters in his library. Alone in her late mother's sitting-room¹⁹ Audrey paced to and fro, with her eyes on the timepiece. At half-past eight she grew quite sick with apprehension²⁰, as she began to believe that something must have happened to Ralph, or else that he was afraid to face her. Perhaps, after all, Ralph, since he had written the letter, had something to do with the crime, as he so pointedly²¹ avoided a meeting. Audrey felt that she could not pass the night without knowing the truth, and at a quarter to nine o'clock made up her mind that as her lover would not come to her she would go to him. He had chambers²² in the Temple, as she well knew; for when Lady Branwin was alive they had gone there to have afternoon tea with the young barrister. It was impossible to remain in a state of suspense²³ any longer, so Audrey ran up to her room, changed from her dinner dress into a quiet walking frock, and stole out of the house as unobstrusively as she could. Fortunately she had a couple of pounds in her purse, so did not hesitate to call a cab. In a very short time she was speeding along in a taxi on her rash errand.
 
And it was rash. Here she was, a young g............